The Idiot's Twin
by slytherinshadowhunter67
Summary: What if Magnus had a twin sister, but - gasp! - a sister with a different story who tries not to copy-paste from Uncle Rick? Interested? Well, you should be. Alyssandra Chase is in the house, and she's got quite the story to tell.
1. My Brother is an Idiot

**Is it kind of weird that I want to be the first to write a Magnus-has-a-twin story? Yeah, it is, but I hope you enjoy this anyway!**

 **P.S: The story's gonna resemble the book for a few chapters** — **sorry! Gotta set up the story first, but I promise there'll be major changes later on.**

 **P.P.S.: I only own my OC and the stuff she does. Everything else belongs to the awesome and amazing Rick Riordan! But now, on with the story...**

Hi. My name is Alyssandra Chase, and my brother is an idiot.

I know, what a way to start the story. You must all be thinking, _But your brother is Magnus Chase! What an adventure! Surely you must feel so proud!_

No, I don't. Seriously, I love him, but Magnus is more trouble than he's worth. He's always breaking things, or breaking _into_ things, or running away from angry Norse nasties out for his blood. Which means his beloved little sister, a.k.a me, has to run after him and make sure he doesn't die all the time. Since my name apparently means 'defender of mankind', I guess it's fitting…but sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. I'm here to tell you the story, right? So let's get on with it.

X

It was cold on the morning we died.

There was a wind whipping my dirty blonde hair into my face, and I pulled my jacket tighter around me as I watched cars trickle by. Even at this ungodly hour, there were people out, but that was almost normal, considering that this was Boston.

I was sitting under the low overhang of some abandoned building, Magnus fast asleep beside me. I envied him for how deeply he could sleep; we were street kids, so we should know how to snatch forty winks when we could, but I had never been good at that. Sometimes I still saw Mom's face in my dreams, and it wasn't uncommon for me to find myself awake at three a.m. I had no idea what time it was now, but I guessed it was about five in the morning. Yippee.

That was when I saw a familiar figure across the street, and I sat up straighter, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. "Blitz," I murmured under my breath. He saw me looking and waved; I waved back.

When he was within earshot, I asked, "What's wrong?" (When you're a homeless kid on the streets, there's usually something wrong.)

"They're after you," Blitz said without preamble. "Get your brother up."

"Who's after us?" I demanded. Magnus stirred, but when I glanced down at him he was still asleep.

"Not sure," he answered, rubbing his chin. "Seriously, wake your brother up."

I sighed, but did as I was told. "Magnus," I said, shaking his shoulder lightly, and instantly he was awake. Years of quick escapes had taught him that.

"What is it, Ally?" Mags muttered groggily—awake, sure, but not quite coherent. "What time is it?"

"No-thank-you-o'clock," I grumbled. "Blitz says someone's after us. I say he's dreaming."

"A middle-aged white guy and his daughter," Blitz confirmed, ignoring my jab. "They're handing out flyers with your names and pictures on them."

Magnus and I swore in harmony, and I briefly imagined us in choir robes singing curse words in harmony. But returning to the topic at hand. If the people looking for us, whoever they were, had information like our names and our pictures, that wasn't great news, especially since it was so early still. What kind of people wandered around at this time of day, looking for two homeless kids? Nobody had cared about us for two years, not even our Uncle Randolph. Gosh, just thinking his name sent a flicker of something like hatred through me.

I pulled out of my thoughts long enough to realize that Magnus and Blitz were talking about the people who were following us, and made an attempt to pay attention. "You should go see Hearth. He's hanging out in Copley Square," Blitz was saying.

I grinned at the thought of meeting up with our other street 'parent', but Magnus caught my eye, and I knew immediately that he would rather go check out whoever was hunting us than hang out with Hearthstone. I always knew what he wanted, could always read him like an open book—call it a twin thing.

"I'll wait for you at the Square," I suggested. I knew he knew what I was thinking.

Magnus nodded. "Sure."

I turned to say something to Blitz, but he had disappeared. The sun was rising; that was probably why. Mags and I were 99% sure he was the shortest, stinkiest vampire ever.

Then Magnus slipped away, presumably to look for the people who were looking for _us_. I hesitated for only a moment before packing up my stuff—I'd almost forgotten about it—and following suit.

I had a date with a deaf person. Hooray.


	2. Don't Trust Your Uncles

Just kidding. I didn't really have a date with Hearth, but close enough.

I could barely even remember when I'd first met the guy, but he and Blitz were the only family Magnus and I had had since, well, Mom. Hearth had taught us swears in sign language, how to scavenge for food, and how to stay alive on the streets...It wasn't like Magnus and I had ever discussed it, but we were both sure that without Hearth and Blitz, we would have died ages ago.

"Hey, Hearth," I said once I got close enough for him to read my lips. I usually formed my words with slight exaggeration around him—nobody else did that, but I couldn't get out of the habit.

 _Hi,_ he signed. _Where's Magnus?_

Even though he actually signed _Hi. Magnus?_ I got the message. "I, um, there's someone after us." I proceeded to explain about the white guy and his daughter, still puzzling over it as I talked.

 _I don't know who they are,_ Hearth signed, frowning. _Magnus is checking them out?_

"Not that kind of checking out, but…yeah."

 _Good._

We stood in silence for a minute, and as the city slowly stirred to life around me, I tipped my head back to look up at the buildings nearby. My eyes fell on the statue of Leif Erikson that Hearth and I were standing at the base of, and I had to smile a little at the memory of countless times Magnus and I had joked that he was wearing a metal bra.

When I glanced over at Hearth, I saw with puzzlement that he suddenly looked panicked, his eyes blown wide. "What? What's going on?"

 _Something is going on,_ he said, and I rolled my eyes a little. No duh, Sherlock.

 _Stay here_ , Hearth signed, and I was about to ask what he meant when he all but disappeared down a side alley. And I thought Blitz was the ninja!

After a few minutes of waiting, I began to grow impatient, and a little edgy too—I kept hearing noises that reminded me of dogfights, but I knew that was impossible because I couldn't hear any dogs. Trying to ignore the flutter of apprehension in my stomach, I resigned myself to waiting until Hearth came back. And hopefully filled me in on whatever the heck was going on.

That was when I spotted a flicker of movement in a window, and my eyes followed it reflexively. To my surprise, none other than my own twin was standing by an upstairs window in Uncle Randolph's house, looking down at me with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, momentarily forgetting he couldn't hear me.

When I turned back around to look for Hearth, I almost literally jumped when I found him standing beside me again. "Where did you come from?" I grumbled as he started signing frantically at Magnus still standing in the window, ignoring me. He had his back to me, so I couldn't make out what he was saying, but Magnus tilted his head in evident confusion.

I was about to voice my concerns when my brother spun around, now facing away from Hearth and I. When he took a half-step backward, I caught a flash of something in his hand as it hit the light, and I made a noise in the back of my throat. "That's it, I'm going after him."

Hearth gripped my arm, no doubt in an attempt to stop me, but I nimbly ducked out of his grasp and raced to Uncle Randolph's mansion, searching for wherever Magnus had picked the lock, because I knew he had. Call it a twin thing.

In a matter of minutes, I had slipped into the house, taking a deep breath as I eyed the dark room I found myself in. Hearing Magnus' voice coming from somewhere else, I followed the sound of it up a flight of stairs and burst into the room I had spotted him in earlier. I found myself in the library I had hated so much as a kid, the sharp tang of something like lemons meeting my nose and a familiar voice reaching my ears.

"Magnus, we need to talk," said Uncle Randolph from behind a shelf, and my gut twisted. "Where is your sister?"

"His sister has a name," I pointed out as I moved to stand beside my brother. "And I'm right here."

Randolph didn't look fazed in the slightest to see me, but Magnus gave me a look that clearly said, _Get out_. I glared at him in a way that hopefully came across as, _No._

"You two are sixteen today," our uncle continued, oblivious to our little twin spat. "Aren't you?"

I had to rack my brains until I remembered, oh yeah, my birthday was January 13th. Well, our birthday. Since Magnus and I hadn't gotten a present on our special day for years, I tended to forget that it existed.

"What about it?" I asked.

"They'll be coming to kill you."

"Isn't that lovely," I muttered sarcastically before raising my voice. "Who's—"

"Yeah, you know what? Whatever," Magnus interrupted. "Nice seeing you, Randolph. We'll just be going now."

" _Magnus,_ " I hissed. He ignored me, taking a step forward before our uncle raised his cane, pointing its iron tip straight at the two of us. My stomach tightened as if he'd actually pressed it into my chest.

"I don't want them to get to you. Not after what happened to your mother," Randolph said seriously, and Magnus stiffened beside me. I couldn't blame him; I hated remembering that night. Mom had been on edge the entire day, almost like she'd expected the sudden shaking and noises that ravaged our apartment. Just as I had begun stumbling confusedly toward the fire escape, the door cracked and exploded inwards, wolf-like creatures with solid blue eyes and shaggy gray pelts bursting inside. I still remembered screaming as Magnus fell from the fire escape, me jumping heedlessly after him.

Just before our home had gone up in flames, my mother had locked eyes with me and ordered me to stay with Magnus, no matter what. I begged her to stay alive, and though I'd kept my promise, she hadn't.

It wasn't like my life had gotten better from then on. The police suspected Magnus and I of starting the fire that killed our own mother. I never _did_ find out what started said fire, but it sure as heck wasn't either of us. Not that the police knew that, or had any reason to. I had spent years running from them, sleeping under bridges and surviving in a constant state of exhaustion…after so many months left alone, Randolph was finally worried about us?

"You don't know what happened to our mom." Magnus broke the silence, voice hard.

"You never even cared about us!" I snapped. "It took you years to bother looking for Magnus and I, and now all you can say is 'someone's going to kill you'?"

Randolph looked down at the carpet, leaning more heavily on his cane. It almost convinced me that he felt actual remorse. "I pleaded with your mother. I wanted to bring you here—to live where I could protect you. After she died…Magnus, Alyssandra, I did look for you. You have no idea how long I searched, or how much danger you're in."

"I'm fine," Magnus retorted. I could hear the slight tremble in his voice that mirrored my own growing unease. "Ally and I have been living pretty well on our own."

"Perhaps." Randolph regarded us both with a gaze that chilled me to the bone. "But those days are over. You're sixteen now, the age of adulthood. You two managed to escape them once, on the night your mother died. They won't let you escape again. This is our last chance. Let me help you, or you won't survive to see tomorrow."

I swallowed. What had Mom always told me? Not to go to Uncle Randolph. What had I done? Gone to Uncle Randolph. I was dangerously curious about exactly what was going on, and that couldn't be a good thing.

"Okay, _who_ are you talking about?" I demanded, unable to keep the question bottled up any longer. "You keep saying 'they'. Oh, 'they're' going to kill you, 'they' won't let you escape, but who exactly are they?"

"You don't want to know. But I can help you."

"I don't need your help! Neither of us do!" Magnus dropped something on the table beside me; when I saw what it was, I couldn't help the gasp that left me. I recognized that stone, painted with a red symbol that looked like a deformed 'F'. Magnus, Annabeth and I had played with those stones once, a long time ago now. We couldn't have been older than six at the time…

"I don't want—" Magnus began.

"I know about the wolves."

Magnus fell silent, and the words I had been about to say died on my lips. The _wolves_?

"I know what you saw. I know who sent the creatures. Regardless of what the police think, I know how your mother really died."

"What?" I burst out.

"Magnus, Alyssandra." I crossed my arms and waited. "There's so much I need to tell you about your inheritance, and about your father."

"You knew our father?" Magnus said, while at the same time I said, "Our _father_?"

"Yes. Your father's identity, your mother's murder, the reason she refused my help…it's all connected. My whole life I've been trying to solve a historical mystery, but I didn't see the big picture until now. It's all been leading up to this day, to your sixteenth birthday."

"Wow, a big historical mystery, sounds interesting—" I broke the sarcasm to glare at Randolph. "What were you saying about our father?"

The building rumbled before he could answer, a growl so deep I felt it in my teeth. "They'll be here soon," Randolph warned—again with the mysterious 'they'. "We're running out of time."

Magnus protested as our uncle limped forward, using his cane to make up for the apparent immobility of his right knee. "I'm asking a lot from you two. You have no reason to trust me."

 _Yeah, we don't_ , I thought. _Especially since I have literally no idea what is going on._

"But you need to come with me _right now_ ," Randolph continued desperately. "I know where your birthright is." He gestured to the desk with the stones on it, and I saw what looked like old maps sitting on it. "Together, we can retrieve what is yours. It's the only thing that might protect you."

'Might' protect you? Well, that was encouraging.

Magnus was silent for a long moment, and I deferred to his judgment, as I always did. He might have been an idiot, but he was my older brother. And that meant I'd follow him anywhere.

"My car is out back," Randolph offered, ruining the moment.

"Umm, maybe we should wait for Annabeth and Uncle Frederick," Magnus suggested cautiously. I whipped around to stare at him— _that_ was who had been following us? Our cousin and uncle?

Randolph made a face. "They don't believe me. They never believed me. As a last resort, I brought them to Boston to help me look for you two, but now that you're here—"

"You brought them here?" I asked disbelievingly.

The building shook again, cutting him off once more. The noise it made was louder and stronger than before, almost like a giant was walking toward us. From the expression on Magnus' face, I knew he must be feeling the same kind of apprehension that tugged at my gut.

"Please." Randolph's voice trembled almost as hard as the building had. "I lost my family to those monsters. I lost my wife, my daughters."

"You had a family?" Magnus asked softly.

"Mom never told us," I said, equally softly.

"She wouldn't have," Randolph agreed with an almost bitter smile. "But…Natalie was my only sister. I loved her. I hated to lose her. I can't lose her children, too." His eyes sought out mine. "Come with me. Your father left something for you to find, something that will change the worlds."

"World _s_ ," I repeated under my breath, looking over at my brother. "What if we run away? Are you going to try and stop us?"

"If you run, they'll find you. They'll kill you." Randolph sounded genuinely apologetic, but his voice was also colored with something like eagerness to match the weird light in his eyes.

Magnus swallowed, hard. "Well then. Let's go for a ride."

 **I'm super sorry I haven't updated in literally months, I'll try and update sooner next time! Drop me a review to tell me what you think; hope you liked this!**


	3. Insurance Did Not Cover That

The moment my uncle gunned the engine of his BMW, I began to regret my life decisions, but not the one I'd made to not have breakfast this morning. Randolph was a _terrible_ driver, acting oddly distracted by the lint-colored sky as he ran red lights, forgot that lanes existed, and left behind a sea of honking Bostonians and my stomach.

"You missed a pedestrian—you wanna go back and hit her?" Magnus asked dryly as we swerved around a startled-looking girl with earbuds.

Randolph made a noncommittal noise and glanced up at the sky yet again. "What are you looking for?" I ventured finally.

"Signs," Randolph said grimly. "We're getting closer to the bridge."

"O…kay," Magnus said, and I couldn't blame him for sounding skeptical. You know how many bridges there are in Boston?

Being someone who cuts to the chase (haha, Chase), the natural thing for me to say next was, "What bridge? Also, who's trying to kill us?"

There was a long silence, during which Magnus and I had a heated silent exchange that went something like: _What the heck is going on? Does it look like I have any idea? Why are we in a car with our crazy uncle?_

I was about to half-pantomime, half-sign something like _I have no idea_ when Randolph interrupted us. "I've made it my life's work, studying the Norse exploration of North America."

"Yes, because Vikings are trying to kill us," I said politely, then told myself to shut up.

Randolph scowled at me over the top of his glasses, an oddly familiar look that made my heart squeeze when I realized how much it reminded me of my mom. She'd given me that exact look every time Mags or I sassed her. "'Viking' is more of a job description. Not all Norse people were Vikings, but…"

"Vikings are trying to kill us?" Magnus, who had been running his hand along the leather of the seat and probably reminiscing about cop cars, looked up at that. Nothing like a death threat by some Norse people to get someone to pay attention!

"A millennium ago, a team of Norse explorers came to this land," Randolph said, as if this was an answer. "Their captain was the son of the god Skirnir."

"A son of a god," Magnus repeated. "That's great. Look, I just remembered, Ally and I have an appointment down the street—"

"Yeah, an appointment," I added.

Randolph talked over us like we hadn't spoken. "The captain had with him a very special item. It belonged to your father, but when the ship went down in a storm, it was lost. But you, Magnus—you have the ability to find it."

"What about me?" I objected. "Don't I have the ability to find it too?"

Randolph studied me with the air of someone trying to figure something out. "We'll see, Alyssandra. Today, both of you turn sixteen, which means you'll be able to claim your birthright. One of you."

Magnus and I glanced at each other, his expression of concern mirroring my own. I didn't like the way Randolph made this birthright thing sound like a contest; Mags and I rarely fought about anything, not when we had cops and muggers to fend off together.

"But your enemies have been waiting for this day, too," Randolph continued, parking haphazardly by a meter on Cambridge Street. "We must find it first."

I was almost distracted enough by the sight of Longfellow Bridge to forget about the other craziness going on. "This is where we're going?"

"Yes. Trust me a little longer," Randolph said, straightening. "Once you have claimed your birthright, you'll be safer. You both will. I can help you, I can train you for what's to come."

"Wait." A steely tone entered Magnus' voice, and I looked over to see that he'd grabbed Randolph's arm. He wasn't big on physical contact, not even with me, so I knew he meant business. "Give me one clear answer, without the history lectures and rambling. You said you knew who our father was. _Who is he?_ "

"On my life, Magnus, I swear to you and Alyssandra that your father is a Norse god. Now, come on. We're in a twenty-minute parking spot."

Randolph strode off toward the bridge, leaving Magnus spluttering as I hurried to match my uncle's brisk stride. "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "I thought Mags said _one clear answer!_ "

"That was clear, my child," Randolph answered. "Don't you believe me?"

Magnus caught up to him on his other side, butting into the conversation with a brusque, "Maybe."

The fact that Magnus was even willing to consider Randolph's crazy ideas might have seemed surprising, but I kind of agreed with him. I knew Randolph wasn't making any sense, what with his talk of Vikings and gods, but something inexplicable about the things he was saying struck a chord deep within me. I found a small, crazy part of my mind wondering if he could possibly be right about my father being a god.

Then, of course, I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity, but not in time to stop Randolph from halting at one of the main towers, muttering to himself and staring down into the frigid, glittering waters of the Charles River. I exchanged a look with Magnus that clearly said, _What the heck is going on?_ "Magnus," Randolph said suddenly, before either of us could voice our thoughts. "Look. What do you see?"

My brother stared down at the river. From the frown on his face I thought he was going to say something intelligent, but all he said was, "…Water?"

"No, the carved ornamentation, just below us. You see it? It's the prow of a Viking longship; this place is sacred to the Vikings!" I noticed how he said 'is', not 'was', and bit my lip. "Somewhere below us," Randolph continued, "is the wreck of a longship that was carrying cargo of incalculable value."

"I still see water," Magnus said dryly.

"And _I_ want to hear about Dad!" I interjected.

"That's what I'm getting at," Randolph said hurriedly, and a long, low _boom_ sounded from across the river. The bridge shook under our feet, and I instinctively grabbed the rail for support. Not too far away, maybe a mile or two at most, a dark cloud of smoke billowed above Back Bay.

"That was near your house," I observed.

Randolph's expression steeled. I didn't like the sudden hardness in his eyes. "We're out of time. Magnus, extend your hand over the river. There's a sword down there, a sword that belonged to your father. Call it. Focus on it like it's the thing you want more than anything else in the world."

"What?" Mags and I objected simultaneously.

Randolph seemed to have decided who the birthright belonged to, his eyes focused on my brother. "Magnus. DO IT."

He hesitated, then thrust his arm out over the side of the bridge, wind pulling at his dirt-flecked blond hair. Concentration settled over his face, but nothing happened—no sword came flying out of the river, at least. The bridge shook again, though, more violently this time, and horns blared. Another cloud of smoke shot up into the sky, still in the Back Bay area but much closer to us. "It's getting closer," I murmured, hoping someone would tell me that was a stupid thing to say.

I didn't know what 'it' was, but Randolph clearly did. "Alyssandra, you try it," he said wearily. "Just…please."

I tentatively reached out above the water when I glanced at my brother, who was watching me. To anyone else his expression might have been unreadable, but I knew what he was thinking. "Together?" I asked.

"Together," he said, and we both stretched our hands out. I felt stupid at first, but then I thought suddenly of Mom, of the night she and the only home I'd ever known had gone up into flames. I pretended it was her hand I was reaching for, somewhere in the murky water below, that I could somehow pull her out of the mess my life had become. Just when I thought nothing was going to happen, the water below us began churning and steaming, ice cracking and snow melting; I let out an involuntary gasp as two hand-shaped holes formed in the river's surface. I hesitated, not knowing what I was doing, but Magnus kept moving his hand, and I backed away from the bridge, watching in confusion and awe as my big brother suddenly closed his hand into a fist. Water swelled and ruptured like the bubbles I'd played with as a kid, and something long and metal flew out of the water and into Magnus' waiting hand.

"At last!" Randolph cried jubilantly, looking up at the sky; Magnus and I just stared at whatever it was he was holding. If I didn't know it was supposed to be a sword, I wouldn't have figured it out—it was slathered in barnacles and mud, and Magnus raised an eyebrow at me as I shrugged back. To be honest, with all the weird magic involved in its withdrawal, I had expected a little more.

"Hooray. I feel safer already," Magnus said.

"You can renew it! Just try."

"I dunno, Randolph…"

I tuned out my brother in favor of surveying my surroundings, wondering if anyone had seen us magically pull a sword out of a river and if we'd get arrested for it. (Years of living on the streets had made me rather paranoid.) But I didn't have much time to worry about reputations, because the center of the bridge suddenly exploded.

Flames shot toward the clouds as I was shoved violently into the rail from the force of the explosion. People screamed, and I thought my face was on fire from the sheer heat of the blast. "Ally!" Magnus yelled above the sudden chaos, glancing at me for a moment before shaking his head, as if to clear it, and running headlong toward the impact zone.

"MAGNUS!" I screamed, throwing myself after him without a second thought. I didn't know what on earth he thought he was doing—stupid brothers and their hero complexes! —but there was no way I was letting him do it alone.

"Alyssandra!" Randolph called, but his voice was mostly lost to the noise around me. When I cast a glance behind me I saw that he looked devastated, and my heart twanged, but I turned around and ran after Magnus instead of going back. He had reached the huge circle of charred asphalt that marked the source of all this weirdness, and inside it stood a man with the most purely black skin I'd ever seen. It was blacker than, well, everything. His outfit was impeccable, his hair slicked back, his face inhumanly chiselled and perfect. (Oh yes.)

I skidded to a stop beside Magnus in time to hear the stranger say my brother's name. Then his strangely-glowing eyes shifted over to me. "And Alyssandra," he said, his voice vaguely accented. Was it Scottish? "Have you come to try and stop me?" He didn't give me a chance to answer, looking a little curiously at an abandoned Corolla standing between him and us. Instead of walking around it, he walked _through_ it, melting it right down the center as the car's sides fell to either side of him. That was probably not going to be covered by insurance.

"Give me the sword and I will spare you and your sisters' lives," Scary Fire Dude said.

The air around him rippled with heat. "What do you want with a sword?" I asked, because Magnus looked a bit confused. I honestly didn't know what was happening, but when you're a homeless kid in Boston, you see a lot of weird things. I kind of mentally shrugged and went, _Whatever._

"That is none of your concern, Alyssandra," Fire Dude said smoothly. He and Randolph should have a contest to see who could say the vaguest thing. I wasn't sure who would win.

Speaking of Randolph, he had decided to catch up to us, and now stood at Magnus' shoulder. "The sword, Magnus. Use it!"

"Professor Chase." Dark Man chuckled. "I admire your persistence. I thought our last encounter would've broken your spirit. But here you are, ready to sacrifice more family members!"

I wondered uneasily what he meant by 'more' family members, but Randolph seemed to know. His voice was unnecessarily shrill as he said, "Be quiet, Surt! Go back to the fires from whence you came!"

"Give it here, boy, or I will show you the power of Muspell. I will incinerate this bridge and everyone on it." Surt raised his arms, and flames wound around his fingers like snakes; the pavement popped and bubbled under him, and small fires erupted up and down the bridge. Randolph staggered back from the heat, but I wasn't affected. I never was, not by extreme heat and not by extreme cold. I just gritted my teeth, despising the classic kind of jerk that Surt was. I might not know who—or what—he was, but I'd seen way too many bullies.

Magnus pointed his sword-thing at Surt, my own annoyance mirrored in his eyes. "Cool down, man. I have a corroded piece of metal and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Just like your father, you are no fighter," Surt said, his lip curling, and I frowned. He knew our father? But—

My thought was interrupted by a foam arrow hitting Surt in the chest.

I turned to see Blitz and Hearth running toward us, bless their hearts, sporting the strangest outfits I'd ever seen them wear. Hearth shot Surt ineffectually with foam arrows while Blitz whacked him with a dowel saying something about ducklings. I wished they hadn't gotten themselves mixed up in this crazy mess, but I felt touched that they were willing to defend us.

Randolph managed to grab Magnus' arm and mine at the same time. "We have to go. NOW!"

Magnus didn't move, probably seeing how pointless it would be, so we stood together watching our friends get backhanded and kicked away, respectively. I would have gone to help them up, but the truth is that I was way too terrified to do anything except stand there. "Enough," Surt said, and summoned himself a nifty fire sword out of nowhere, glowing white-hot. "I am annoyed now. You will all die."

"Gods' galoshes!" Blitz stammered. "That's not just any fire giant. That's the Black One!"

I looked sharply at Blitz, but he didn't seem inclined to say anything more. It almost sounded like my friend knew who Surt was, but that was impossible. Right?

I didn't get a chance to say anything, because flames suddenly licked up around Surt, smoke and heat circling outwards and wreaking havoc on the bridge. It felt like I had walked into a furnace, but for some reason I wasn't dying or otherwise hurting. From the heated conversation Magnus was having with Blitz about Hearth, it didn't seem to be affecting my brother either. He was holding Randolph up, and I watched Blitz take him and stumble away.

Surt laughed. "The sword will be mine, boy. You cannot change fate. I will reduce your world to cinders!"

Magnus clenched his fists, and for a moment I thought he was going to do something rational, like think about what he should be doing. Of course, I was not that lucky. "You're starting to aggravate me. I have to kill you now."

He started to step into the wall of spiralling flames separating us from Surt, but I snapped, "Not if I kill him first." To this day I don't know what possessed me, but I yanked the sword from Magnus' hand, ignoring the heat in favor of walking straight toward Surt.

Was that a good idea? No, probably not. But I had spent most of this day following Magnus around and waiting for him to do hilariously stupid things; it was my turn to do something hilariously stupid. With that logic in mind, I passed through the flames and whacked Surt with my new piece of corroded metal.

The fire hadn't hurt me, but my awkward swing at Surt didn't hurt him either—it just surprised him. We stared at each other, sharing a nice bonding second before he kicked me in the gut.

Maybe you're thinking, _Alyssandra, that doesn't sound too bad._ Sure, but Surt could really kick. I vomited and collapsed at the same time, as lame as that sounds, my entire body feeling like it was on fire. My suspicions that Surt wasn't human increased tenfold, although those suspicions were hiding in a tiny corner of my brain that wasn't screaming GAAAAAAA.

"Feeble," Surt tsked. "Trying to outdo your brother, are you? Give me the blade, Vanir-spawn. I promise you a quick death."

Magnus told Surt to do something physically difficult and dropped to his knees beside me. "Ally? Ally, are you okay?"

I gave him the sword by way of answer. Magnus took it and rose to his feet, staring at it, but there was a flash of movement in the corner of my eye. When I looked up, I did a double take; I must have been hallucinating from Surt's wicked kicking skills, because a girl on a flickering, faded apparition of a horse was circling above us. She wore chain mail and a glittering silver helmet, and a spear that looked like it was made out of concentrated sunlight glowed in her hand. Though I couldn't see much from under her green head wrap, I thought she was frowning, but she and her horse melted into smoke before I could get a good look.

Yeah, I was probably imagining things.

"The sword," Surt demanded of Magnus. "It's worth more to me freely surrendered, but if I must, I will prise it from your dead fingers."

That sounded awfully cliché, but I glanced at the sword and dropped my mouth open so fast I almost dislocated my jaw. "Mags…the sword."

His and Surt's eyes both widened when they saw it. Instead of a crusty, unappetizing metal rod, my brother was now holding a thirty-inch, double-edged silver sword, with a leather grip and a silver pommel. Viking runes were engraved in a groove that ran down the length of the blade, and Surt stepped back uneasily as he seemed to read them. "You don't know what you have there, boy. You won't live long enough to find out."

I struggled to my feet, moving forward, but I wasn't fast enough. With a flourish, Surt swung his fiery scimitar.

 **Well, I'm really good at updating. But I've edited the first few chapters and will try to get a new one up within the week! Thanks for reading, and please review :)**


	4. Death is Not Fun

**Hello, lovely people! It's certainly been longer than a week since I updated, and I apologize :/ Hope this chapter makes up for it!**

Last chapter:

 _Surt stepped back uneasily as he seemed to read the Viking runes engraved on Magnus' newly-shiny sword. "You don't know what you have there, boy. You won't live long enough to find out."_

 _I struggled to my feet, moving forward, but I wasn't fast enough. With a flourish, Surt swung his fiery scimitar._

I had already opened my mouth to scream, but Magnus had other plans. He swung his sword, blocking Surt's blow, and sliced deep into his thigh. Magnus looked as surprised as I felt, but managed to deal him another hit in the face nonetheless. "How are you _doing_ that?" I asked incredulously.

"I…" Magnus, for a precious moment, seemed absolutely speechless. Then he shook his head as if to clear it and called, "Hearth!" Our street friend was currently attempting to pull two kids out of a burning stroller, but Magnus probably didn't like how close they were to Surt any more than I did.

"Get out of here, and take those kids with you," I told him as clearly as I could. He tried to protest, but I wasn't having it. No way was I gonna let Hearth get into any more danger because of me. He ended up giving Magnus and I a disparaging look, but he followed the lady and her kids off the bridge nonetheless, disappearing into the smoky chaos that was the bridge. Looking around, I wondered how my life had gotten so weird in just a matter of hours.

"Boy!" Surt finally said in a voice that reminded me of Darth Vader, now standing in flame-patterned boxers and lacking a nose. Nice one, bro. "I have tolerated you long enough!"

"I was just thinking that about you," Magnus said. Raising the sword, he challenged, "You want this? Come and get it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl on the horse again, circling the bridge like a vulture. A feeling of foreboding built in my stomach as Surt bent to the ground, yanking a chunk of asphalt free with his bare hands. He shaped it into a fiery concrete ball, like I'd done with snow when me and Magnus were kids, and all at once I realized what he intended to do. I didn't even have time to think; I just threw myself sideways at Magnus just as Surt lobbed his fireball.

For a moment I thought he had missed. Then the pain came, overwhelming and all-consuming pain that I was powerless to stop. I begged someone, anyone, to make it stop. It didn't. As if I was underwater, I heard Magnus' voice, rattling off an impressive string of swear words, and even in my pain-addled state, I managed to roll my eyes. That was when I heard the whoosh of wind slicing past a metal blade, and Surt howled. Staggering to my feet, though I couldn't recall getting onto the ground, I got up just in time to see another ball of fire plow right into Magnus. Well, now my heroic act looked stupid, especially since I felt like throwing up again.

"Ally," Magnus said faintly—or maybe I just heard it faintly—and I glanced at him. He wanted me to distract Surt so he could do something, I knew that without even having to think about it. So I did.

"Hey…Surt," I said slowly, and the seething demon-giant-whatever turned to glare at me. Carefully, I raised my right hand, attempted a smile, and quietly shuffled closer to Magnus while putting down all my fingers but one.

Surt bellowed angrily and charged, and I only had time to grab one of Magnus' hands in mine before Surt smashed into both of us and we all tumbled over the railing. Magnus' sword plunged into Surt's chest, and he screamed and burst into flames, thrashing and attempting to escape the grip Mags and I had on his arms. Agony, confusion, sorrow and hatred whirled through me as we fell, but since I was dying and all, I didn't have much time or room to process everything I was feeling. My body must have decided to shut down, because my eyes closed, but just before they did, I saw the girl on the horse galloping down from the sky, reaching out to us with a strangely conflicted look on her face.

Then, Magnus, Surt and I hit the water, and my eyes slammed shut. For all intents and purposes, at that moment I was dead. That's never how it goes in stories, is it? The main character comes within an inch of death, stares it in the face, but gets rescued and lives to tell the tale. Well, I hate to break it to you, but that's not how this story goes. I had died; good for me. And that was when I started to dream.

The first part of my dream was a memory of Mom, Mags and I from when we were ten and went hiking in the Blue Hills. It was the height of summer, and I had fond memories of the carefree days our little family used to have in summertime. But then the dream changed, and I wasn't in the hills anymore. The tang of dust and lemons hit my nose, and I was standing in Randolph's library again. Now there was a stranger there too, a man dressed like your average high-school jock who was way hotter than any high-school jock had a right to be. Heavy burn scars crisscrossed his face, though, flawing the perfection, and welts surrounded his mouth. "How's death treating you, Alyssandra?"

I should've been surprised that he knew my name, but at this point I really wasn't. "About as well as your face is treating you," I said, then immediately regretted it.

The man let out a low, mocking whistle. "Just like your brother, I see. Won't this be fun?" Not waiting for a response, he continued with a chuckle, "I'll tell you what I told him: don't trust appearances. Don't trust anyone's motives, even your friends'. And tell the All-Father I said hello."

"What—" I began, and then my surroundings shifted again. I was flying through cold gray fog now, and I had to blink several times before I even figured out which way was up and which way was down. Something was squeezing my wrist, and I looked up to see that it was the hand of the girl on the horse. Her glowing spear was now strapped to her back, and a few strands of hair had slipped out from under her headscarf.

I tried to say something, anything, but no sound escaped. The girl glanced at me anyway, reddish-brown eyes looking at me critically. "You're awake."

No duh, I would have said acerbically if I could talk, but as it was, I nodded.

"Don't struggle. Your brother did, but you don't want to fall into the Gap either. Trust me."

I was surrounded by gray on all sides, and I didn't know what would happen if this girl let go of my arm. I didn't really want to know. So I closed my eyes and willed my body to shut down again.

A few seconds passed, the only sounds being the fast breathing of my smoky equine escort and the whistling of the wind. I didn't go unconscious. If I didn't black out soon, I was going to get seriously bored, and I considered trying to speak again to get the girl's attention. Then again, I didn't even know her name.

I was thinking about potential names when I lost consciousness.

It seemed like only a second until I came back to awareness, but in reality it must have been a while. I sat up, blinking hard, and the first thing I noticed was that I wasn't in the air anymore. Instead, I was sitting somewhere warm. The strangest thing was, as I patted myself confusedly to check on my injuries, there weren't any. The holes in my jacket had disappeared, and my hair was smoother and silkier than it'd been in years. My clothes actually smelled good for once, and I wondered if I was hallucinating. Where was I?

Looking around was almost as big of a shock as how good I felt. I was sitting on grass, in a field of rolling hills that stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Trees dotted the landscape, and picnic blankets were spread underneath them. There were people sitting on those blankets, too—mostly teenagers, laughing and eating and blasting music from speakers. Some of them were wearing armor, and although all of them had weapons that seemed incongruous with the summery vibe, nobody looked like they were out for a fight. Snatches of conversations floated past me as I got to my feet. Looking around, I thought bemusedly that I'd never seen this many people my age in my entire life. And to top all of that off, as I peered at the horizon, I saw a palace shaped like an upside-down boat, glinting as its metallic walls caught the sunlight. It looked like it was made solidly out of gold and silver, which was…wow.

What _was_ this place? Who were these people? And wasn't I supposed to be dead?

I glanced back at the crowd, wondering if I should talk to someone, when I made eye contact with a boy who was walking in my direction. I wouldn't have paid him any attention if he hadn't grinned and waved before breaking into a jog. "Hey!" he called, once he was within earshot. "What's up? You must be a newbie!"

"Uh, where am I?" I asked hesitantly. "And who are you?"

Still grinning, he said, "I'm Miles! And this, my friend, is Folkvanger."

"Volkswagen?"

"Nah, dude, Folkvanger." Miles enunciated every syllable clearly this time, hefting his sword absently as he did. "You're gonna love it here at Casa de Awesome!"

"Folkvanger," I repeated dubiously.

"The People's Battlefield," Miles explained with a nod. "Seriously, this place is lit!"

"Wait, wait, hold on!" Miles, who had started walking, stopped, turned, and raised his eyebrows. "What am I doing here?" I asked. Maybe this hippie of a boy didn't know, since I barely knew myself, but I had to ask.

"What are you doing here?" Miles grinned again. Did his face ever get tired of doing that? "Well, you died an honorable death. Congratulations! You're one of us now!"

"That's great," I said, though it came out as more of a question than a statement.

"Yeah! But let's not talk about your death yet, I'll hear all about it tonight anyway," Miles said. Clearly his face was not yet tired of grinning, because he was still doing it. "Come on. I'll introduce you to some friends!"

I followed after him, if only because I wasn't sure what else to do (where was Magnus?), and the first person Miles brought me to was a girl who spoke a mile a minute and whose long speech I didn't understand a word of. I caught something about death, though, and finally put two and two together. "Wait, are you dead too? Are all of you dead?" I asked, gesturing to the vibrant and very-not-dead-like community around us.

"Yeah, duh," Miles said. Quirking yet another smile, he added, "Welcome to Folkvanger."


	5. Freya is Pretty! She has Cats!

**Sorry for not updating for so long! :( There's a longer AN at the bottom, but for now, here's the long-overdue chapter :)**

 _A recap of last chapter: Alyssandra and Magnus die! Surt dies! Alyssandra gets dropped off at Folkvanger and meets a bubbly guy named Miles and his talkative female friend! Interesting things are about to happen!_

I'll admit that I've seen my share of weird things in the past. Really weird things. Like I've said—when you're a homeless kid living in Boston, you get used to the odd event or two. In fact, sometimes you even learn to embrace it.

But standing in Folkvanger and listening to a breathing boy talk about being dead, I was pretty sure I'd reached my weirdness threshold. In the past day alone, Magnus and I had been informed that our dad was a Norse god (!), no less than two mysterious otherworldly males had professed to knowing more about us than we did (!), and my brother and I had managed to die (!). So even for a street-toughened girl like me, who's seen some quite literal crap, the latest bombshell revelation that I was standing in a community full of dead hippies was a little disconcerting.

In words you kids might understand better, I was shook.

"Hello? Uh, newbie?" someone said, pulling me out of my daze. It was Miles, who was now looking at me like _I_ was the weird one here. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. What else was I supposed to say? 'No, actually, I feel like throwing up out of sheer confusion and I've already thrown up today, thanks very much'? I didn't think Miles or the girl beside him would want to hear any of that, so I opted to introduce myself. "And I'm Alyssandra, by the way."

"I'm Tanya," said the girl standing next to Miles. "Mi, we should take her to Sessrumnir, shouldn't we? It might be nice if she can meet Lady Freya first, and we can show her around a bit after, too!"

She said all this so rapidly I had to blink a few times and mentally sort through it, but Miles took it in stride. "Yeah, sure. C'mon, Al! Can I call you Al?"

"Yes?" I hazarded.

"Awesome!" Miles beamed. He had a dimple, I noticed. "We'll tell you all about everything as we go, right, Tanya?"

"Of course," the other girl said. The two of them started walking, but they left a space between them for me; I didn't know why, but the simple act left me with a warm and mushy feeling inside.

Maybe that was just the sunlight, though. It _was_ sunny out here. But speaking of 'here'…"So where exactly are we?" The air was clear and sweet, smelling faintly like this lavender perfume Mom used to wear, and the sunlight was as warm and yellow as spun gold. Even the grass under my feet was soft, and a few brooks gurgled happily as they wove their way through the rolling hills. The water was as clear as the oxygen—which was how I knew we weren't in Boston anymore.

"Vanaheim," Miles answered.

"Van…what?"

"We're in Folkvanger, which is just a small part of Vanaheim—even though we're obviously the prettiest part," Tanya said.

"But what's Vanaheim?"

"Dude, do you seriously not know?" Miles asked. "Well, uh, Vanaheim is one of the nine worlds."

"Nine," I said, nodding as if this made perfect sense. "There are nine worlds now."

"Niflheim, Muspellheim, Asgard, Midgard, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Nidavellir, and Helheim," Tanya recited.

Strange as they were, the words jogged something in my memory, and the phrase 'nine worlds' clicked into place in my head. For a moment I was back in my old apartment, listening to my mother talk about Norse worlds in the kitchen. Now that I was in one, it didn't sound as crazy as it had back then. "Mom must have mentioned this," I murmured, looking up. This was the point where Magnus would lock eyes with me and we'd both nod slowly in realization.

"What did your mom tell you?" Miles said curiously. Right, I thought, he wasn't Magnus. My twin wasn't here.

"Nothing, she just knew a lot about this Norse stuff," I explained. "But I never heard anything about a place like this."

"Folkvanger is only a small part of Vanaheim, but it's where half of all the honorable dead go, although personally I think there are some people here who didn't really die all that honorably," Tanya said.

I snorted, but mulled her words over in my head anyway. "Half of the honorable dead?"

"Yep!" Miles grinned. Again. "I don't really know how it works, but the gods decide who dies honorably and then who comes to Folkvanger."

"What about the other half?" We passed a group of teens who waved at Miles and Tanya, smiling at me. One girl in a hat winked. They looked more like volunteers at a summer camp than fallen heroes.

"They go to Valhalla," Miles said. "Folkvanger is cooler, though!"

"Wait! Does that mean Magnus is in Valhalla? Whatever that is?" I demanded.

"Who's Magnus?" Tanya asked.

"My twin." I would rather die than tell him, but I already missed him way too much. As cliché as it sounded, I'd never had to live without him, and it sucked major butt that I was clearly going to have to.

"Well, if he's not here, he must be in Valhalla; usually friends or family members who die together, even though that's kinda rare, end up in the same realm, so I guess the gods have different things in mind for you two," Tanya said.

"The gods, huh," I said. I was still on the fence about whether or not I actually believed they existed. After all, this could be just one crazy dream, couldn't it?

"Yep, and you're about to meet one," Miles said mildly.

"Sorry, what?"

I'd been so caught up in the conversation that I hadn't realized we were getting closer to the big upside-down-boat-palace I had spotted earlier. No, I don't mean that it was shaped like an upside-down boat, I mean it was an actual upside-down boat. Its planks were golden, held together with silver nails, and what I assumed were oar slots made up the tall windows. It was very aesthetically appealing, but I had to ask: "Why is it a boat?"

"When Ragnarok comes around, we're gonna flip it over and it'll be big enough to hold all of us," Miles said. "'M not really sure how it's going to work, but hey, we'll have a good war vessel."

"Ragnarok is the end of the world and everything, isn't it?" I asked. I wasn't obsessed with Norse mythology like good old Uncle Randolph, but at least I knew what Ragnarok was.

"It sure is!" Miles flashed me a grin as we stopped in front of the imposing golden doors. "Now come on. Lady Freya's this way."

He and Tanya went inside first, and as I pushed the door open behind them, my mouth fell open a little. "Whoa."

The interior of the ship was possibly even more aesthetically appealing than its exterior, being a gorgeous, wide-open space littered with sofas and hammocks. Light spilled in through the windows, dust motes floating tranquilly inside them. Despite the fact that almost every comfy furniture item was occupied by someone napping, the room didn't feel crowded; it had a homey vibe instead. I had to wonder if this was where everyone slept every night, though—where were the bathrooms? What if you wanted privacy? So many questions.

Eventually I tore my gaze away from the sleeping arrangements to focus on the rest of the room. It was divided in half by a row of Persian carpets stretching from where I stood near the entrance to the end of the hall, and braziers filled with golden spheres of light stood at intervals along both sides. A raised dais sat at the end of the carpet, supporting a carved wooden throne that looked way smoother than wood had a right to look. On either side of the throne lay an enormous cat, both of them easily the size of a full-grown tiger. But this last detail I noticed only distantly, because my attention was caught by the woman sitting on the throne.

I didn't have a problem believing she was a goddess. Her blonde hair was done up in a braid that swept perfectly across one shoulder, and her eyes were the softest blue I had ever seen. She wore a white halter top and a matching skirt, showing off a body that was so tanned and flawless I was a little jealous. Her necklace completed the look, although 'necklace' didn't really do it justice; it was more of a collar, comprised of rubies and diamonds connected by interwoven strands of gold. All the jewellery only added to the aura of sheer golden light that radiated off her. And as I stared, I realized that it wasn't just any light, it was the same light that shone throughout all of Folkvanger.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen the sun, so I guess you don't need one when you've got a goddess this beautiful to do all the shining for you.

"My lady," Miles said, and I noticed that he and Tanya were kneeling before the throne; I hastily joined them. "This is Alyssandra…"

"Chase," I finished. "Alyssandra Chase."

"So I've heard," the goddess said, examining me.

"You have?"

"Yes," she said simply. "Oh, but where are my manners? I'm Freya, dear."

A memory hit me, one that was so strong I kind of wondered how I'd forgotten it. Magnus and I used to have this Norse mythology book for kids, and it had gone over all the major gods and goddesses with so-adorable-it-was-vomit-inducing illustrations included. There had been one of the woman sitting before me, and unless I was remembering wrong, the caption had been something like: The goddess of love was very pretty! She had cats!

Well, the book hadn't been wrong. Except calling Freya 'pretty' was like calling a mountain a big rock.

"I've heard only good things about you and your twin," the goddess continued, smiling. Her smile made me want to cry a little bit. "Such interesting children! And especially Magnus."

"What's with Magnus?" I couldn't help but ask. I was way too used to being the younger sister, so I didn't really care about Mags being the cool one yet again, but still. What did my absent brother have over me this time?

"He has a rather spectacular destiny ahead of him," Freya said. "The sword took to him, surprisingly, since your father—"

"Who _is_ my father?" I interrupted, then wished I hadn't when Freya's eyebrows drew together. The aura of light around her grew cold; still yellow, but now like frozen silk rather than sunlight. (Why would you freeze silk? I don't know. But that's what the different feeling reminded me of.) Her beauty had a terrifying edge to it, like an ornate dagger that looks stunning until you see how sharp the blade is. I suddenly did not want to cross her.

"I suppose that's a reasonable question," Freya said, studying me. Her expression relaxed into a soft smile. "Your father, my dear Alyssandra, is my twin brother Frey."

"Frey," I repeated curiously. "So that makes you my aunt?"

"Yes, it does," Freya said. "Miles, Tanya, the two of you may leave. Alyssandra and I have a few things to discuss."

The two of them got up hesitantly, but they both offered parting waves as they left. Clearly, they'd sensed that the goddess had made more of an order than a request.

"Well, my dear, this must be confusing for you," Freya said gently. "You have just discovered that your father is a god, and that you have wound up in a place for the honorably dead. And your brother is in Valhalla, rather than here with you."

I nodded, not really knowing what else to say. The goddess had hit the nail on the head. "If I can ask…what's Valhalla? And why am I here, exactly?"

"It is the home of the einherjar, warriors who have died honorably and now train in battle to prepare for the greatest battle—Ragnarok." Freya's eyes grew distant. "And to answer your other question, we in Folkvanger have the same purpose. We must fight when the time comes, and each warrior here will be there to answer the call."

"I don't know if I'm that good of a fighter," I said doubtfully.

Freya laughed, a sound that I would gladly listen to on repeat for the rest of my life. "That is what you are here to learn. You will have all the time you need. Oh!" Her eyes lit up. "And speaking of fighting, your father told me to pass this on to you."

She lifted her hand, fingers slightly curved, and I watched in awe as something appeared in her grasp out of nowhere. It was an antler, like something you'd find hanging in a hunting lodge, but it was much more beautiful than any I'd ever seen. Curving delicately toward the ceiling, it was a smooth light brown color, tipped with white at the end of every offshoot. In Freya's hand, it looked magnificent.

"Do you know the story of Sumarbrander?" she asked.

"No," I said honestly. I didn't even know what that was.

"Sumarbrander, or the Sword of Summer, was your father's sword once." Freya traced the antler's shape with one finger almost absentmindedly. "But he gave the sword away in exchange for his love, a frost giantess named Gerd."

"A frost giantess?"

"And a beautiful one," Freya said. "Your father is the god of many things, one of them being summer. Gerd was the cold to his warmth and the silver to his gold. But she was a giant, and Frey knew that she could not—would not—marry a Vanir."

"A Vanir?"

"The gods associated with fertility and nature, among other things," said Freya. "A giant would never marry one of us. So Frey fell into despair, and the world suffered. Finally, his closest friend, Skirnir, came to see what was wrong, and promised that he could deliver Gerd to him within nine days. Skirnir only asked for a small fee—the Sword of Summer. Frey gave it up in a heartbeat, and I can only imagine what betrayal the sword felt. It will never allow Frey to wield it again, and he is fated to die at Ragnarok because he does not have a weapon."

"That's…" I didn't even know what to say. 'Dang, son'? "What do you mean, the sword won't let Frey wield it?"

"Sumarbrander is not just any sword, Alyssandra. It has its own will," Freya said with a slight frown. "It seems to have chosen Magnus rather than Frey. Rather than you."

Ouch. Also, didn't I pull the sword from the river too? Where was my neat weapon?

"But Frey would not see his daughter weaponless," Freya continued, now smiling as she extended her hand, the one still holding the beautiful antler. "Here. This is yours."

I blinked at it. So I did have a neat weapon after all. Carefully, I reached out and took it from the goddess, and the second I closed my hand around it, a thrum of energy shot through me, like I could run a mile. The antler felt more like an extension of my arm than anything.

"Frey's current weapon is the antler of a red deer," said Freya, pulling my attention back to her. "It belonged to one of the four stags that graze from the branches of the World Tree, Yggdrasil. Yours was taken from one of the other stags—but don't worry, it will grow back."

I hadn't been worrying, but I nodded anyway.

"Frey retrieved it himself, and you will find that it is still imbibed with some of his power." Freya smiled mischievously. "In fact, you'll find that you can use it to channel quite a bit of your own power."

"I have power?"

"Oh, yes," Freya said. "You will need it for what is coming." As if that wasn't ominous enough, she continued reassuringly, "Don't worry; for the moment, you're safe in Folkvanger. You can't even die permanently! Now, come with me." She rose gracefully from her throne. "It's almost dinnertime. Someone is probably going to die. How fun!"

It sure didn't sound like fun. But I wasn't about to argue with a goddess; instead, holding tight to the antler that no one even gave a second glance, I joined the throng of people that had begun heading out into the brilliant sunshine.

 **It took me a long time to decide what weapon Alyssandra should have, because there was no way I was taking the typical OC route and giving her a sword. Well, I knew Frey's current weapon is an antler, but I don't believe it's even mentioned in the original myths where he got it from, so I just kinda ran with my knowledge that there are four red deer that hang out in Yggdrasil. So, tada, antler! I hope it's not too cringy or Mary Sue; she'll get all the necessary teasing and awkward moments with it later, and if her dad can have an antler, then she totally can too. Plus, she and Magnus will make a pretty sick pair later on. Just wish I had a book cover of her and Mags back-to-back, Alyssandra holding her awesome shiny antler and Magnus dramatically wielding Sumarbrander *drools* Anyway, one more thing: to the lovely anon a while back who asked if they could translate this into Vietnamese, if you're still around, I'd be super flattered! If any of you do literally anything related to my story, as long as you credit me I will love you forever :) Sorry this is so long, but yeah, thanks for reading, guys! If you have any comments, questions or suggestions, please review, and if you don't, review anyway!**


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